Author's Note: First off, my apologies for the long delay in updating. Two conventions in two months put me a bit behind my usual writing-schedule; hence, the delay. (Bet you guys thought I forgot about this story or gave up on it or something, huh? Not by a long shot…)

Anyway, this is it, dear readers, the end of a long journey: The Final Chapter of our little saga. Once again, a big thank-you to all my loyal readers for sticking with this long, grim story and seeing it through to its conclusion. All good things, as they say, must come to an end...

Resolution
A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic
By Shvique

Chapter 11—Reconciled

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity had passed, Jenny spoke. She'd made her decision.

"Sheldon," she began quietly, haltingly, her head bowed, her eyes still tightly shut. "I—I know I haven't been a very good friend to you…at all… I know I haven't treated you very well…or shown you as much appreciation as I should have…" She paused. "I know I've…treated you…badly, in fact. I know I've…wronged you…in a lot of ways…" Slowly, she raised her head to look at him directly. "I know I'm not perfect. I know I've made mistakes, and I've…done things that were wrong. I'm sure I'll probably make a lot more mistakes before I'm finally ready for the scrap-heap one day! But let's face it, Sheldon: we've both made mistakes. You know that's true. We've both done things that…that we shouldn't have…that we wish we hadn't…that we're sorry for..." She paused and lowered her head again, mustering up the last bit of courage for the most difficult part that was to follow. "I know it's sometimes hard for me to keep my powers—and my temper—under control… I know I sometimes lose patience with you and I get angry… And I know I've been…" She hesitated, then went on, wincing with each word. "…kind of…mean to you…sometimes…and I know I've…hurt you…" She hesitated again, dreading the words she knew she had to speak. "You have every right in the world to be angry at me now…and—and I wouldn't blame you one bit if you never wanted to speak to me again…" her voice dwindled to a tiny whimper, then fell momentarily silent.

She pressed painfully on. "And I—I don't blame you one bit for not wanting to be friends with me anymore, either! But…but Sheldon," she paused, with a tiny sob. "I don't want to lose you as a friend! I really don't…! In spite of what you think, I really do want you to be part of my life! 'Cuz you're right! You have been good to me! Good to me and kind! And I do appreciate all the nice things you do for me! I—I know I don't always show it…but I do appreciate them, I really do…" she continued, her voice breaking.

Slowly, reluctantly, Sheldon turned to face her and patiently waited, wondering what could possibly be coming next. The tension in the air was thick, heavy and palpable, highly-charged, like the atmosphere just prior to an electrical storm.

"And…and so I'm telling you now," Jenny went on, looking him directly in the eyes, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "That I really, truly am sorry for what I did, for—for all the things I did! I'm sorry…and I'm ashamed of myself. Please believe me! I'm sorry I got angry and attacked you with my laser-cannons. I admit that was wrong of me. I promise I won't ever do it again! I'll never do anything like it again, I mean it! I'll never use any of my powers against you, to hurt you, or mistreat you in any way ever again, I promise!"

She sobbed heavily and continued, in a quiet, subdued, utterly defeated voice. "I'm…I'm sorry for…the other ways I've wronged you in the past, too…abandoning you in outer space and—and…everything!" She paused only for a moment to wipe her eyes. "But if—if you can…somehow find it in your heart now to…to forgive me…and give me another chance…then…I promise I'll make it up to you…try really, really, really hard, and…be a much better friend to you in the future."

She finished, her hands gently clasped together in humble supplication and looked at him, her eyes welling with tears. "Please…? Sheldon…? Please…? If you ever had any regard for me at all…if you ever really cared for me even half as much as you always said you did…then please give me another chance… Please forgive me…" she implored, hopefully. "Please…don't...hate me…" she whispered. "Please give me another chance... Please…forgive me…"

Sheldon regarded her in total silence, privately at war with himself, with the conflicting emotions and impulses roiling deep within him. Could he forgive her for what she'd done? He wondered. For all the things she'd done? Should he forgive her? Did he even want to? Did she mean anything to him anymore?

Forgive her? He thought, bitterly. That's asking a lot! An awful lot! After what she did? After all the things she did? I've already done a heck of a lot for her, and what have I got to show for it? What did I ever get in return? Not much, that's for darn sure! Not much at all! Nothing but heartache and endless humiliation! So what would I gain by forgiving her? I mean, what would I really get out of the deal? Would I get anything at all?

But… he thought. On the other hand…staying angry at her probably won't get me anything, either… I mean, what would that get me? More knots in my stomach? More sleepless nights? And heck of a lot more crying?

And lastly, as he looked into Jenny's tear-filled eyes, he found himself wondering the inevitable question. And…really…honestly… he asked himself. Could I really stay angry at Jenny forever? Even if I really, really wanted to, with all my heart? Even if I had a gazillion and a half good reasons to stay angry at her from now 'til doomsday…could I really stay angry at her…forever…?

He looked at her, now looking so forlorn and heartbroken herself, and he realized that this was the first time in his life that he'd ever seen her looking genuinely sorry for anything she'd done to him. And the longer he looked at her, the more he began to realize, little by little, that he no longer felt quite the same need to stay angry at Jenny. Now that he'd finally gotten the opportunity to express to her all the deep-seated hurt feelings, anger and resentments that he'd kept bottled up inside for so long, the pain associated with those wounded feelings began to subside…

Seconds seemed to stretch into hours, moments into eternity, as the heavy silence and quiet tension weighed down heavily upon them both...

Finally, after an interval in which it seemed as though time itself had stood still, Sheldon released a deep, heavy sigh and relaxed his shoulders, all the muscles of which had been pulled taught like piano-wire. "All right," he said in a weary, defeated voice. "All right… I—I accept your apology… I forgive you."

After a moment's thought, he quickly added, "And—and I'm sorry too, for all the stuff I did, from—" he gulped, recalling the painful memory. "From stealing your plans last year, to getting mixed up with that stupid, creepy, secret agency, and—other stuff, too."

Jenny also seemed to relax then, all the servomotors throughout her body slackening simultaneously, and she eased into a more familiar, relaxed posture.

She gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. "Then can we be…friends again…?" she asked, in a timid little voice, slowly extending her metal hand to him in friendship.

Sheldon recoiled, and immediately began to tense up again. Friends?! he thought briefly, with a last lingering trace of bitterness. After the way you've treated a so-called 'friend?'

"Please? Go on," Jenny said, shaking her hand invitingly and attempting a reassuring smile. "Take it. It won't bite you." She paused, awaiting some kind of response from Sheldon. When none was forthcoming, her weak smile faded, and her eyes once again began to moisten. "Please, Sheldon," she said, earnestly. "Please…just so that you'll know there's no possible misunderstanding, no lingering doubt in your mind. Just so that you'll know I'm not blowing this off or treating it as a joke. I'm asking you now, as honestly…as sincerely…and as humbly as I can: Please, Sheldon…please… Be my friend." Her voice was now soft and small, its tone heavy with sincere, heartfelt emotion.

Finally, timidly, Sheldon reached out his hand, tentatively took hers, and clasped it in his own. As he held the cold steel hand, the thought suddenly occurred to him that this was actually one of only a few occasions in which he'd had the opportunity to hold Jenny's hand in friendship, rather than one of the many times when he'd been called upon to make small technical repairs or modifications to her body. The sensation of holding the cold, metallic hand was eerie, uncanny, vaguely unsettling in a way he couldn't quite define; quite unlike anything he'd ever felt or experienced before. And, surprisingly, not altogether as pleasant as he'd always expected it to be, either.

"Friends," he said at long last, forcing a weak half-smile onto his face.

After a moment, a new thought occurred to Jenny. "Tell you what," she said. "Let's make a fresh start, as friends. Okay? No hard feelings, no grudges. Let's…let's just put it all behind us…and make a completely fresh start. Okay?"

Sheldon thought about it for another long moment, then he nodded. "All right," he said quietly.

"Great!" Jenny said with a relieved smile and a nod, as she shook his hand. "And…I'll tell you what. I'll make a deal with you. In addition to my promise to never hurt you or mistreat you, I also promise to…" she paused, trying to find just the right words. "You know…include you in more of my activities, and not make you feel left out. 'Cuz you're right! That does feel rotten, being left out, and excluded by other people. I know exactly how it feels! So I promise I'll try real hard in the future not to…you know…make you feel 'frozen out.' Okay?"

Sheldon nodded again. "Okay," he said, simply.

"And…in return," Jenny went on cautiously, choosing her next words very carefully. "If you can…promise me to…knock off the…weird stuff…like some of the stuff you used to do. Just…promise not to do it anymore. Okay?"

The weak smile on Sheldon's face quickly vanished. He blinked and stared at her with a quizzical frown.

"Come on. You know what I mean." Jenny went on. "The weird stuff. Like following me around everywhere, at school and…other places. Practically shadowing my every step. Sneaking around behind my back. Giving me those creepy 'long stares' from a distance. Acting all obnoxious and jealous if I look at another guy or date other guys or whatever. You know: that whole 'stalker' bit. Because that stuff really gets on my nerves! Or any of the other, really weird stuff. Like spying on me through my bedroom window! Or sneaking into my house! Or—"

"But I haven't even been—" Sheldon began to protest, but Jenny raised a hand, stopping him. She continued, but in a softer tone.

"I'm sorry I brought it all up again," she said. "And I know you haven't been doing that…weird stuff anymore lately—mostly 'cuz you've been mad at me. And I—I understand... I get that. But…" She hesitated again, gesturing aimlessly with her hands, as she struggled to find the words to adequately express what she was feeling.

"But…you know, you don't have to…avoid me completely, but just…" She paused again, awkwardly, still groping for just the right words. "If you could just…promise to…respect me. That's all I want. Just…respect me. Respect my privacy, respect my personal space, and not be so…so intrusive and clingy and needy all the time. Just…tone it down and cool it a bit. Okay? Please? Just…just treat me like a person. You know, with respect; the same way you'd like to be treated. That's all. After all, I am a person, you know. Even if I am a robot!" She smiled for a fleeting moment.

Sheldon frowned. "Well…yeah, but…respect is a two-way street, Jenny," he pointed out. "I mean, I'm a person too, and I think I also deserve to be treated with some respect."

"I know, I know…you're right," Jenny conceded with a nod and a raised hand. "I admit I haven't always treated you very—" she hesitated at the painful admission. "Respectfully in the past. But that'll change, I promise! I promise I'll do better with that!" She nodded with a reassuring smile. "Honest, I will! You'll see!"

But Sheldon still didn't look quite convinced, so Jenny tried again.

"Suppose we do this," she said. "Suppose we just…both agree to…respect each other. For example, I promise to…listen to you more in the future, and not just…'blow you off' and 'brush you aside,' like I used to. And in return, if you could promise me no more weird stuff, and no lies or deceit. We'll just…agree to always be honest and upfront with each other, and respect each other from now on. Okay?"

She paused, waiting for a reaction of some kind from Sheldon. But there was none. "Come on," she prompted. "Please? It's not really so much to ask, is it? To just…knock off the whole weird 'stalker' bit, and just respect me, and be honest with me? Believe me, Sheldon, if you could agree to do just that much at least, it'd make it a whole lot easier for me to be friendly to you, and treat you with respect in return."

Still, Sheldon hesitated, as he nervously glanced in the direction of the secret, hidden compartment of the workshop, where he kept Silver Shell hidden away. But what about Silver Shell? he wondered. That 'mutual respect' stuff sounds fine and good and all, he thought. But if complete honesty is what Jenny wants, then complete honesty is what she's going to get! And that means she'll have to be told about Silver Shell! And I just know she's not gonna like it!

Jenny noticed his hesitation. Come on! She thought. Is it really such an unreasonable request? "Well…?" she asked, after another few moments had passed. "Have we got a deal or not?"

At last, Sheldon sighed. Now's not the time for telling her, he decided. She'll have to be told about Silver Shell eventually…someday…somehow…but…not now. This just isn't the time for it…

"Okay. I promise." He said at length. "No lies, no deceit, and no more spying or 'stalking,' as you call it, either. That whole bit stops, as of right now. That won't happen anymore, I guarantee it." And this time, Sheldon actually meant it. After all the emotional turmoil he'd had to endure over the past two weeks, there was no way he was going to put himself through that whole emotional meat-grinder ever again, if he could possibly avoid it.

When Sheldon made his promise, Jenny broke out in a huge, warm smile, the kind of smile that, at one time, could have brightened the gloomiest day for Sheldon; the kind of smile that he had once longed to see her display just for him, but which she seldom ever did.

And as she beamed glowingly at Sheldon, a new thought occurred to her. She suddenly realized that, after all that had happened between them over the years, after all that she'd felt and thought about throughout that long, exhausting day, and all that she now understood about Sheldon, about how deeply and passionately he felt about her, about so many things, and how much she truly owed him for all he'd done for her…somehow, she just knew that a simple handshake wasn't quite enough anymore. No; something more was needed.

She gently pulled on Sheldon's hand, drawing him close to her, and in a quick movement, she gathered him up in her arms, holding him closely, tightly (but not too tightly, she quickly reminded herself, so as not to accidentally injure him) and embraced him in a huge, welcoming, comforting hug.

Sheldon was so stunned at first that he couldn't even react. He merely blinked in surprise, now completely and utterly baffled by the sudden change in Jenny's mood and behavior. Only the week before, Jenny was attacking him with her laser cannons, as though she wanted to utterly destroy him. Then, a few moments ago, she was tearfully remorseful and apologetic. And now, she was all warmth and smiles, friendliness and hugs, as though nothing had ever happened between them. What is going on here?! He wondered.

Sheldon merely shook his head in silent bewilderment. Girls! He thought, puzzled. I will never understand girls! and he carefully—very carefully—placed his arms around her, and tentatively returned her embrace.

She held him in her arms for a long, long time, gently swaying with him from side to side, as though reluctant to ever let him go. Her steel arms, powerful enough to destroy entire buildings with ease, now held him gently, tenderly, as though she were cradling a robin's-egg in her hands. She gently rested her head on his shoulder, and soon, she was crying openly again. "I'm sorry…I am so, so sorry I hurt you…" she softly, tearfully murmured over and over again, as her metallic fingers tenderly stroked his hair. "I'll never, ever do it again, I promise…!"

Sheldon trembled as she held him, she noticed, although whether it was from surprise, lingering fear or perhaps because he too was also now overcome with emotion, she did not know. But she did also notice that the longer she held him, the less he trembled, and he seemed to relax, apparently accepting her embrace; perhaps even—dare she think it?—perhaps even welcoming it…

In truth, Sheldon was quite taken aback by Jenny's sudden and open display of such emotion. He'd never seen her like this before…and it quite perplexed him. He'd seen her happy, he'd seen her annoyed, he'd seen her frustrated, he'd even seen her angry…but he'd never seen her in this state before, and he didn't know what to make of it.

But as Jenny held him in her arms, she felt enormous waves of relief wash over her, as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from her shoulders. All the guilt, shame and self-recrimination that had tormented her thoughts and emotions continuously, day and night, for two solid weeks, now seemed to flow out of her, first in a small, barely-perceptible trickle, then gradually growing into a torrent, taking with it all of the related corrosive effects which had been slowly eating away at her from the inside. And with the easing of the guilt and shame, her tears and sobs gradually began to diminish, and her emotional programs and subsystems likewise began to subside from their earlier chaotic state, gradually settling back into a normal state of equilibrium. For the first time in weeks, Jenny began to feel like her old usual self again. Relaxed. At ease. Comfortable and at-peace with herself and the world. She felt a deep and profound sense of satisfaction, happiness and contentment within her, such as she hadn't known for a long, long time…

And she suddenly realized something else too, something that she had never, ever expected in a million years. She discovered, much to her surprise, that holding Sheldon in this close, personal way wasn't the dreadful, repellent experience that she'd always expected it to be. As a matter of fact, it actually felt rather…nice. Deeply satisfying and comforting, but in a manner quite unlike anything that she'd ever experienced before with anyone. It was strange, but somehow…it just seemed perfectly natural to her now; as though it was, in some strange, ineffable way, somehow always meant to be…

She also now felt something for Sheldon that she'd never felt before: A certain protectiveness, as though she wanted to shield him from anything in the world that could ever harm or injure him. It was a rare, unique feeling that she'd experienced before for only a select few, very special individuals, those particularly close to her: Her creator, of course, and also Brad, and especially Tuck. That intense, personal, overwhelming desire to shield and protect from harm, she now felt for Sheldon as well, though of a much greater degree and intensity than she ever would have expected, of such magnitude that it quite surprised her.

It was then that Jenny knew, for an absolute certainty, that she could never do anything to deliberately hurt Sheldon ever again. No matter what the cause, no matter how angry—or even furious—she might become in the future, she would never again allow her anger to get so out of control as to do him harm. She knew it, just as surely as she knew she could never harm her creator, or Brad or Tuck, for even the very thought of it now filled her with horror and revulsion.

After countless minutes in this quiet, tender, and uniquely protective embrace, Jenny slowly…ever so slowly…almost reluctantly…began to release Sheldon from her arms. She stepped back and regarded him with a relieved smile on her pretty, robotic face, her eyes still glistening with lingering emotion. She reached up a hand to wipe her eyes in a quick movement, then cocked her head to one side as a new thought occurred to her. "Oh, wait a second," she said, with a light, musical laugh. "I still owe you one!"

With that, she extended her coil-like arms around Sheldon once more, embracing him in a second, even bigger, more effusive hug, this time lifting him completely off the ground like a rag-doll, easily twirling him around and around in circles, with ecstatic squeals of delight and glee.

"There now," she said at last, as she gently set him back on his feet again. "That makes up for the hugs I didn't give you on Cluster Prime and back here on Earth!" She smiled warmly at Sheldon, hoping to see the old familiar, crooked smile appear on his face that she'd come to know so well.

Then, on a last, sudden impulse, she leaned over…

…and kissed him on the cheek. Not a quick, impulsive, meaningless peck-on-the-cheek kiss, either, with little feeling behind it, but a long, lingering, lasting kiss, full of heartfelt emotion; full of meaning.

"And that's to thank you for helping to bring me back home from Cluster Prime!" She said softly, with a gentle, friendly pat on the shoulder. "Now we're really friends again!" She paused. "Okay?" she asked, hopefully.

With some lingering difficulty, Sheldon finally forced a smile onto his face. "Okay," he said with a simple nod. "Really friends."

Jenny gently took both of his hands in her own and looked deeply into his eyes. "I'm glad we had this talk," she said. "You've given me a lot to think about." She paused with a pleasant little nod, then continued. "A lot to think about. And…I meant what I said earlier, too: I will make it up to you…someday…somehow…I promise. I'll make it all up to you. You'll see." She nodded again. "Okay?"

Sheldon nodded in acknowledgment. "Okay," he replied.

Jenny continued to hold his hands, smiling warmly at him, then, slowly…ever so slowly, she released them, and turned to the door to exit. Sheldon reached for it and opened it for her, allowing her to step outside.

"Um…wanna…maybe hang out somewhere over the weekend?" she suggested, turning back to face him. "Would you like that? Mezmer's maybe? Or—or maybe we can hang out at the park…? Or maybe someplace else? Someplace that…you might like…?"

"Sure, Jenny," Sheldon replied, with a simple nod.

"Great!" she said with a big smile. "See you tomorrow, then! Or Sunday, maybe!" With a final wave, Jenny blasted off with her rocket-jets and soared high into the evening sky, heading homeward. Sheldon waved after her.

As she soared higher and higher, Jenny felt elated, even euphoric, a feeling akin to the joy she'd felt years earlier, when she'd first been equipped with rocket-jets, and had taken to the skies for the very first time. She was glad that she'd had this long talk with Sheldon; glad and relieved. She was relieved, of course, to have finally gotten the opportunity to apologize and make up with him, but more importantly than that, she also now felt that she knew and understood a few things about him that she didn't before.

And she knew that things would be different between them from now on, too; different in a good way. Oh, she still had no romantic interest in him, of course; that hadn't changed. But she did now feel a certain…understanding, a certain sympathy and respect for him that she'd never felt before. She now recognized him as a person, with thoughts, feelings and passions of his own, and that he was driven by them, just as she herself was driven by her programming, and by her equally-strong passions.

And maybe…just maybe…Sheldon was right in a way, she thought. Perhaps, in some strange way, the two of them really weren't so very different from one another after all. They were, after all, both 'outsiders;' misfits, really, destined to never truly 'fit in,' be fully accepted or ever become part of the so-called 'popular crowd.' That being the case, then perhaps it was perfectly natural, even inevitable, for the two of them to turn to each other and become friends…

But if only he could learn to respect my personal space! she thought in a final, lingering vestige of pique. That drives me crazy! But even as she thought this, she wondered if perhaps Sheldon had now learned his lesson in this regard, just as she had learned hers.

After all…she reflected soberly. As he pointed out, I haven't always treated him with much respect in the past, either... But…She vowed with a decisive nod. That'll change, and change for the better, just as I promised!

In the end, Jenny had to admit that, on balance, Sheldon really wasn't such a bad guy. He had a good heart, and—when he wasn't busy being so darned obnoxious—he could even be pretty nice sometimes; almost sweet, in fact. When he wasn't acting so clingy, and possessive, and jealous; when he was more vulnerable and yet quietly assertive, as he'd been this evening, he could be downright appealing, in fact.

And she also admired him for speaking up for himself as he had. It took a great deal of courage for him to do that, knowing full well that she could have easily vaporized him with her weapons anytime she wanted to. And this self-assertiveness was certainly far more appealing than his formerly weak, somewhat submissive manner had been. And as he had demonstrated at the secret-agent compound, and on the voyage to Cluster Prime and back, he could be very brave and courageous when the need arose.

Sure, he had his faults and drawbacks, and had made some dumb mistakes, but then, who didn't? Nobody was perfect. She certainly wasn't. She had certainly made more than her share of dumb mistakes over the years…as her creator and virtually all of the teachers at Tremorton High would no doubt be only too quick to point out…

So even though Sheldon sometimes got on her nerves and made the occasional dumb mistake, Jenny still had to admit that, on the whole, he was basically a decent guy, and had a number of appealing qualities. Oh, he still wasn't 'dating material,' of course, and yet…on the other hand…now that she thought about it…

…she began to wonder if maybe going out on a date with him would really be such a bad thing after all…?

After all, she had done worse—a lot worse—on other dates she'd been on in the past…

So would it really be so bad…? she now wondered. Would it really be so terrible…? He really is a sweet guy, in his own sorta-dorky way… What have I got to lose? And maybe…just maybe…it could even be a good place for us to start getting back to being real friends again…

Well…it was definitely something to think about it…and think about a lot, she decided. And in the meantime, she resolved to treat him with more kindness, patience, and yes, even respect from now on. Somehow, she just knew that doing so would make a big difference, and prove to be rewarding for them both in the long run.

With this final thought in mind, Jenny was just about to put on an extra burst of speed for the short distance remaining to her home, when a sudden, horrifying thought occurred to her, a remembrance of something utterly forgotten about in the course of the long, chaotic afternoon. Immediately, she felt a sinking feeling deep in her midsection, stopping her short in mid-flight. Ohhhhhhhh, cripes! She thought, slapping her forehead in dismay. Brad! I forgot all about Brad! The way I snapped at him earlier today! And yesterday too! And the day before that! And off and on over the past several days!

Slowly, she closed her eyes as the sinking feeling inside her intensified. She knew that she still wasn't finished yet; there was still one more apology to make before the night was over…

Ohhhhhhh… she silently moaned. There's just no end to it…!

With a sigh of weary resignation and a minor alteration in her flight-path, she bypassed her own house, and landed on the front doorstep of the house next door. She rang the doorbell, and waited…

The apology she would have to make to Brad also wouldn't be easy, but she knew she had to do it. And after the intense emotional ordeal she'd just been through with Sheldon, an apology to Brad ought to be a relative cinch by comparison…

The door opened, revealing Brad standing there. "Jenny?" he asked, his eyebrows raised, evidently surprised to see her.

"Hey, Brad," she replied, with a weary smile. "Listen, I'm really, really sorry for the way I've been acting lately." She went on, speaking rapidly. "I'm sorry I've been so crabby and irritable the last couple of weeks, snapping at you and everything... I—I didn't mean it." She paused and shrugged, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment. "I've had some personal things on my mind the last few days, and I—I guess I just haven't been my usual self lately." She paused, easing into a sheepish grin. "And today—well…I guess you could say I was just having a really bad day!"

"Hey, don't worry about it!" Brad said, with a broad, easy smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. "I kinda figured something like that was going on."

"Yeah," she continued, her smile widening. "But it's okay, though. I'm still me."

Brad nodded. "Glad to hear it." His smile faded slightly. "Got it all straightened out now?" he asked cautiously, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "It's all straightened out now."

"Great…glad to hear it... Um…" he hesitated, trying to think of something to say next. He swallowed and said, tentatively, "I—I take it it's something you don't wanna talk about… Right?"

Her smile also faded, and she shook her head. "I…I think I'd rather not..." She said, quietly. "Like I said, it's…well, it's kinda personal."

Brad nodded, accepting her answer. "I understand," he said simply. He glanced away distractedly, and a brief, awkward silence followed for a moment. He then refocused his attention back onto her. "Um…wanna…come inside and play videogames with me and Tuck for awhile?" he asked.

She smiled and thought about it for a moment. "Um...thanks," she replied. "But…maybe some other time. It's been a really rough day, and I'm really, really tired. I need to get in some serious recharging-time."

"Oh. Okay." He replied with a smile and an understanding nod. "See you tomorrow then?"

"Sure! See you tomorrow. Skate-park down by the mall?"

"You bet! I'll be there! Around ten!"

"Great!" she said, her smile widening. "See you then!"

"See you," He gave a parting wave of his hand. "G'night."

She began to turn away, then stopped and looked back to him one last time. "Brad?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"You're a good friend." She gave him a final nod and a smile, then turned and headed back to her house.

"So're you, Jen; so're you." He smiled after her as he closed the door.

"I'm home, Mom," Jenny called out as she stepped inside the front door.

"XJ-9?" Dr. Wakeman called out from the kitchen. "Well now, you're home at last! It's getting late! I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you!" She approached her robotic daughter in the hallway, her expression grim. "So…how did things go?" she asked. "Did you see Sheldon? Were you…were you able to talk to him?"

"Yeah! Finally!" Jenny replied. "I've been over there this whole time, just talking things over with him. I'm sorry I'm home so late, but…well, we had a lot of things to talk about. A lot."

"I see…" Dr. Wakeman hesitated, then pressed on. "You didn't—you didn't…'force the issue'…did you…?"

Jenny didn't answer, and avoided her creator's gaze.

"Welll…?" Dr. Wakeman asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Well…" Jenny said began, evasively.

"XJ-9…!" Dr. Wakeman's tone sharpened ever so slightly, and the eyes behind the thick glasses narrowed further.

"Well, I…I guess I did sort of…insist…a little bit… Because—just like you said—he really didn't want to talk to me. But still, I didn't exactly…you know, 'force' him or anything like that."

"I see," Dr. Wakeman said, staring coldly.

"And there was no crisis over there, either." Jenny added, trying to mitigate the issue with something positive. "You know; like what we talked about. He wasn't sick or anything, thank Jobs, and there were no sick or injured family-members, either, or anything like that." She hesitated, catching the stern look on her creator's face, then went on to clarify further. "He was just…really upset. And—like I said—he really didn't want to talk to me…at all. But…eventually, he did."

"I see," Dr. Wakeman repeated, with a slightly less-sharp edge to her voice, apparently deciding not to pursue that particular line of inquiry any further. "So…were you able to make your apology to him, then?" she asked.

Jenny nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I apologized. Finally!" She released a deep sigh of relief, then continued. "And you know what, Mom? You were right about the need for an apology. It really did need to be said. And I'm glad I did it, because I do feel a whole lot better now!" She paused, then went on, more quietly, "A lot of things needed to be said, as a matter of fact. It turned out we both had a lot of things that we really needed to clear the air about."

"Mm-hmm…" Dr. Wakeman murmured non-commitally with a faint nod, as though she were merely hearing confirmation of something she'd already long suspected.

"But it wasn't easy, though," Jenny went on. "As a matter of fact…I think it was just about the hardest apology I've ever had to make. And I can't even say why, exactly. But…I said it, and in the end, I finally got him to accept it and forgive me."

"Good, good, I'm glad to hear it…" Dr. Wakeman replied, then glanced up at the clock on the wall, and cleared her throat. "**Ahem** Listen, XJ-9," she said. "I know it's getting late, and I'm sure you'd probably like to turn in and get a good night's recharging, but I would like to run one last quick systems-check on you first. Right now."

"Oh, Mom…!" Jenny tilted her head back, rolling her eyes. "Do we have to? I'm so tired, I feel like I'm ready to fall apart!"

"Yes, yes, I know. But it's important; very important. And it'll only take a few minutes. I just need to check a few things."

Jenny sighed. "All right," she conceded wearily, then turned and headed for the lab, too fatigued to even argue about it. Dr. Wakeman followed close behind her.

"You know what, Mom…?" Jenny said, looking over her shoulder as she descended the stairs.

"Yes, XJ-9?"

"I think things are going to be a lot better between me and Sheldon from now on. A lot better."

"Oh?" Dr. Wakeman replied, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. I think I understand him a whole lot better now than I used to."

"That's good, that's good… I'm glad to hear it."

"I'm also beginning to realize that I misjudged him in a lot of ways. Turns out there's a whole lot more to him than I used to think."

"Mmm…" Dr. Wakeman murmured noncommittally.

When they reached the lab, Jenny seated herself on the examination-table as usual, and patiently waited, as Dr. Wakeman retrieved an assortment of data cables from a drawer of the diagnostics console. Dr. Wakeman then turned and approached her robotic daughter. As she stepped closer, she noticed Jenny's arm.

"He repaired for your arm for you, I see." She noted, matter-of-factly.

"Yeah…yeah, he did," Jenny replied, holding out her arm for her creator to examine. "I was a little surprised, to tell you the truth. The mood he was in, I half-expected him to slam the door in my face." She paused. "But…he fixed it, just the same. And it didn't take him all that long, either; only a short little while."

"Hmmmm…" Dr. Wakeman murmured, as she took Jenny's forearm in her hands, examining the formerly-damaged area closely. After a few moments, she shook her head in amazement. "I can't even tell where the damage was, to be quite honest." She said. "Tell me, how does it feel? Does it feel all right? Any stiffness anywhere? Does anything feel loose or out-of-place inside?"

"No, no, it feels perfectly fine. Just like new, in fact! Everything's functioning perfectly! See?" She said with a smile, wiggling and waving her fingers this way and that, as though to demonstrate their full use and functionality.

"Hmmm…" Dr. Wakeman hummed, as she examined the area again, very closely. "A very fine job, I must say. First-rate work all around." she said, with a tiny, satisfied nod. "Very good. I approve."

She then released Jenny's arm, and began connecting the various leads and electrodes of the data-cables to the data-ports in the back of Jenny's head, neck and all the other points around her body. As Jenny waited patiently, she looked across the lab, over to the storage/recharging-stations for her sisters, the XJ series 1 through 8.

"I sure wish my sisters were activated right now," she said, sadly. "So that I could apologize to them too, for the way I acted…"

"Well," Dr. Wakeman said, softly. "They are your sisters, after all. I'm sure they'll understand and forgive. After all," she said with a smile. "Oil is thicker than water!"

Jenny returned her creator's smile. Then, suddenly, her smile faded, and after a brief silence, she said, "Mom?" her face now grim.

"Mm?"

"Do you think I'm cruel?"

"What? No, of course not!" Dr. Wakeman was so surprised at the question that she dropped a data-cable. "Whatever gave you such an idea?"

"Oh, nothing…" Jenny shrugged, and looked away. "I was just…wondering…"

Dr. Wakeman regarded her robotic daughter soberly for a moment before responding. "Is that what Sheldon thinks?" she asked, quietly.

Jenny turned to face her creator. Once again, Dr. Wakeman seemed to know exactly what she'd been thinking. Jenny hung her head and closed her eyes, wincing, as she recited Sheldon's words. "He said I'm…cruel… And he said I'm a…bully…"

"Now XJ-9, you know that's not true."

Jenny slowly shook her head. "I don't know… I'm not so sure now…" she said. "I've been thinking about it and I—I guess I…have been…kind of…mean to him…sometimes… But cruel…?" She turned to face her creator, her eyes glistening. "I mean…I'm not really like that…am I…? I'm not a…a…" she hesitated, then dropped to a whisper, as though ashamed to speak the words aloud. "I'm not a—a bad robot…am I…?"

"Of course not, XJ-9! You're a good robot! And you're a good daughter, too."

Jenny lowered her eyes. "It…it really bothers me." She said, in a small, quiet voice.

Dr. Wakeman thought quietly before she responded. "Well, did Sheldon say you were 'cruel' before or after your apology?" she asked.

"Before. And after. Sort of…both... Kind of…" She shrugged. "See, I actually apologized several times, and even though he eventually said he forgave me…" She trailed off weakly, unable to continue, as though unconvinced by her own words.

"Well there now, you see?" Dr. Wakeman replied in an upbeat tone, as she picked up the dropped cable and connected it to a data-port. "You apologized, he accepted your apology, and he forgave you. Simple as that."

Jenny released a small, sad sigh. "Well…I'm not so sure…" she said. "Somehow, I feel like…maybe he didn't really believe me. He even said at one point that he didn't believe in me anymore." She paused, then went on. "And the thing of it is…even though I apologized and everything, and even though he said he forgave me…I—I still feel terrible about…what I did. I mean, I'm normally not like that. I don't know what got into me that day. I've never done anything like that before…to anyone…" She paused and shook her head. "I just wish I could go back and…undo it all somehow…"

"I know, XJ-9; I know," Dr. Wakeman said gently. "Believe me, we've all done things in life that we wish we could go back and change somehow. But…unfortunately, life doesn't come equipped with an 'undo key.'" She paused, then continued, softly. "That's something for you to think about, though, and bear in mind for the future: Actions do have consequences, both good and bad, and living with those consequences is not always so easy. Or pleasant. But…" she shrugged. "It's something that we all have to learn to live with and accept. It all ties in with personal responsibility."

Jenny silently regarded the tips of her toes for an immeasurable period of time before she spoke again. "'Cruel'…" she whispered as she slowly, sadly shook her head. "No one's ever called me that before… No one…" Her eyes began to tear up again.

"Well," Dr. Wakeman said at length. "I don't think there's any question but that what you did to Sheldon was wrong. There's no disputing that. And I won't try to excuse it, or minimize it, or sugarcoat it, either." She paused and sternly regarded her robotic daughter for a moment, allowing her words to penetrate. Then, her demeanor subtly softening, she went on. "But…that said, I don't believe you're really 'cruel,' per se. And I'll tell you why. The fact is, if you were really, truly cruel, then none of this entire affair would have bothered you in the slightest. You wouldn't have gotten this upset about it, you wouldn't have felt guilty about it, and you probably wouldn't have had nightmares about it, either, with or without a conscience program. You'd have slept right through the night, just like XJ-1." She smiled, hoping to coax a similar response from her daughter.

But no smile was forthcoming. Instead, Jenny slowly turned to face her creator, her eyes now welling with tears. "Do you think he'll ever really forgive me?" she asked, softly.

"Welll…" Dr. Wakeman began, after a long, thoughtful pause. "Perhaps he just needs a little more time. After all, he's probably had a pretty rough time of it too, these last couple of weeks. My guess is that, right now, he probably feels as though he's lost all faith and trust in you. Since it took a lot for that to happen, then it'll probably take quite a bit of time for him to re-build that trust. You see?"

"I guess…"

"And they do say that 'time heals all wounds,' after all." Dr. Wakeman went on with a wry smile. "So just be patient with him. Give him time. Before you know it, you'll be back to being old friends again. And, as I pointed out earlier," her smile diminishing. "If we can forgive him for stealing your plans last year, then he ought to be able to forgive you for—" she hesitated. "For what you did to him." She concluded, connecting a data-cable.

"I hope you're right," Jenny said. "But…oh, I don't know…" she paused. "I guess what bothers me is, the way I treat him sometimes, the side of me he tends to see most often…I don't feel that's…me, the real me, inside. He was definitely right about that; I don't treat other people the way I treat him. And I don't even know why I do it, either…but…when I'm around him…I just act differently, almost like I turn into a different person." She dropped her voice very low. "And I don't think I like the person I was turning into." She paused, then turned to face her creator. "You know what I mean?"

"I…think so…" Dr. Wakeman replied, guardedly. "So…could we say that this experience with Sheldon has caused you to…'see yourself in a new light', so to speak?"

"Yes! That's it exactly!" Jenny replied. "And—I didn't like what I saw at all. Not at all. And I don't ever want to see it in me again, if I can help it."

"Yes, yes," Dr. Wakeman replied, with a nod. "I think I understand what you mean..."

"I mean, I don't want to be like that," Jenny continued. "I don't ever want to be thought of as a—a 'mean girl,' like the Crust Cousins, for example," Jenny's expression turned sour as she recalled two notorious girls, and the many cruel torments they'd inflicted upon her in the past. "Or Pteresa. Or some of the other snotty girls I know at school," she went on. "At one time, I wanted to be like them… You know: popular, like they are and everything, but now…" She shook her head. "Now, I don't. Somehow, it's just not that important to me anymore." Her voice trailed off and she looked away for a moment, as though deep in thought; then she turned back to face her creator. "I guess the way I feel now is…if being popular means becoming everything I hate, and turning against my friends and hurting them, then I don't think I want popularity all that much anymore."

"Well now, I think that is an excellent point," Dr. Wakeman said, as she connected the last data-cable, then turned and walked back to the diagnostic console, where she sat down. "An excellent point. It certainly is food for thought."

"I guess that's what you meant before, about me deciding what kind of person I want to be, huh?"

"Well, in a way," Dr. Wakeman replied, with a thoughtful nod. "Mostly, I was trying to impress upon you the importance of recognizing and accepting that you were in the wrong, and to take responsibility for it. Now, I must admit that learning to recognize when one is wrong—and take responsibility for it—is often one of the most difficult things for a person to learn. Some people never learn it. But it's something that I, for example, had to learn very early on, as a scientist. A good scientist must be able to recognize when he or she is wrong, has made a mistake somewhere, or has even made a simple miscalculation; otherwise, they never get anywhere."

She took a deep breath and continued. "Now…take the Crust Cousins, for example. From what you've told me about them, it sounds as though they've both been terribly spoiled. It's my belief that they've probably never been disciplined, corrected, or reprimanded by their parents, and so they've probably never had to face any consequences for their actions. As a result, they've never had to learn to recognize and admit when they're wrong, or take responsibility for it. Even on the rare occasion when they are forced to face the consequences, even then, they often don't admit it or accept the responsibility, do they?"

"No…no, they don't!" Jenny said with an irritated frown. "Usually, they try to somehow blame it on somebody else; usually me!"

"Mmm…I suspected as much," Dr. Wakeman concluded her thought. "It's all part of the same psychological pattern. Never having been corrected by their parents means never facing the consequences of their actions, and never taking responsibility for it, resulting in lifetime avoidance of personal responsibility. QED."

Jenny remained silent as she mulled over her creator's theory to explain her tormentors' behavior. It was one possibility which she had never before considered, but which made a great deal of sense, now that she thought about it.

"But…" Dr. Wakeman went on. "In a way, I suppose the two of them are probably more to be pitied than hated."

Jenny looked away without a word, frowning at the wall.

"After all, unlike you, they'll probably never learn," Dr. Wakeman explained. "And so, they'll probably never change. In years to come, they'll most likely remain the exact same pains in the neck that they are now."

At this, Jenny giggled, turning back to face her creator.

"But getting back to Sheldon, though," Dr. Wakeman went on. "Why do you suppose it is that you treat him differently? What is there about him that…causes you to react or respond differently to him than you do to anyone else?"

Jenny was struck by the question. She turned and stared off into space for several moments as she carefully pondered it. "That's a good question…" She said softly. "I'm…not really sure, exactly. I guess I…never really thought about it that much before. Part of it is just the really dumb, annoying things he does sometimes that really fry my circuits." For a brief moment, an irritated frown appeared fleetingly on her robotic face, before just as quickly vanishing, replaced by a look of tenderness. "But…other times…" she went on. "I can't help but feel sorry for him."

"Oh? Why sorry?"

Jenny thought deeply, choosing her words carefully, before she replied. "Because…sometimes I feel that…he wants more from me than I can give him. If that makes sense." She paused. "I mean…the poor guy deserves some happiness in life, I guess…but…" She shrugged. "I'm just not sure I can be the one who can give it to him."

Silence followed for several moments before Dr. Wakeman spoke. "But you say you're not sure, though…" she said, quietly. From her tone of voice, Jenny couldn't tell if her creator was asking a question or making a statement.

"No…no, I'm not..." Jenny shook her head, then gently hugged herself with her arms, taking care not to disconnect the data-cables. "I mean, at first—and for a long time—I had a hard time dealing with all the constant attention he was giving me. You know: all that constant…unwanted attention and…affection, was a little hard for me to deal with. I wasn't used to it, and I guess I just didn't know how to…handle it. 'Cuz…" She shrugged. "I only thought of him as…just…you know, a friend, a casual friend, that's all. And I never had any thought of being anything more than that to him."

She fell silent, and remained so for countless moments. Then, right when it seemed as though she'd concluded her thought, she went on.

"But now…I'm beginning to wonder if…maybe I was…wrong." her voice was now very soft, very quiet and subdued, as she mulled over her evolving and still somewhat conflicted feelings about her quirky little friend. "I've been wrong about so many things about him. Like I said earlier: it turns out there's a lot more to him than I thought. He certainly has a lot more going for him than most of the guys I've dated. So now I'm beginning to wonder if…maybe I was…wrong not to give him more of a chance. Maybe…I've been missing out on something all this time…" She paused, then dropped her voice to a near-whisper. "Maybe…maybe I can be more than…'just a friend' to him…"

Dr. Wakeman took in her daughter's words in absolute silence, scarcely even taking a breath.

"Sometimes…" Jenny went on, speaking so softly now that it almost sounded as though she were speaking only to herself. "When I think about all the nice things he's done for me…" She raised her arm, examining the area that Sheldon had repaired for her, tenderly stroking its surface with her steel fingertips. "All the kind and…thoughtful things he's done…I almost feel like…like…" Her voice trailed off, and faintly…ever so faintly…the LEDs beneath her cheeks began to glow, giving her the faintest trace of a blush.

"I don't know," she said at last, with a weak smile and a quick, dismissive shake of her head, the glow of her LEDs immediately vanishing. "I'll have to think about it some more…and my 'thinker' is too tired to do it now!" She grinned at her creator with an embarrassed shrug.

"You really do care about him, though…don't you?" Dr. Wakeman asked softly, with a gentle, knowing smile.

Jenny again fell silent, as she pondered the question. "I think…maybe I do... In some nutty kind of way…I guess I do care about him… More than I thought I did, anyways..." She said. "I mean, some of the things he does still kinda bug me…and part of me still feels sorry for him, too… But now…now I feel something different for him that I never felt before." She paused. "Like earlier today, when I thought he was missing…and I didn't know where he was, or what happened to him…and I was afraid he might be sick, or hurt somewhere or…" She paused with a shudder, then went on, quietly. "Or later on, when he didn't want to talk to me on the phone… Or after that, when I finally did get a chance to talk to him, and we…talked about—about some…" she hesitated. "Personal things…" she trailed off, feebly.

She shut her eyes tightly with a brief shake of her head, as if to dispel her more disturbing recollections. "I do know one thing though," she went on, her eyes now open and her tone now firm. "And that is, I really do want to try to make it up to him…somehow. If he'll let me, that is…" She paused. "After all the nice things he's done for me, all the favors and everything and… after what I…" she hesitated. "…did to him, I feel like I really do owe him something, to try and help make things up to him, and help him to forget about…about…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. "You know, just to prove to him that I'm not 'cruel', that I can be kind."

"Well, that seems like a good idea," Dr. Wakeman replied. "I mean, I don't think you necessarily have to 'prove' to him that you're not 'cruel' per se, but…doing something kind for him to try and make amends seems like a good idea." As a matter of fact, she thought, it's precisely what I had in mind when I suggested a 'peace offering'! But she remained silent, choosing to keep this thought to herself.

Jenny nodded to her creator, and went on. "Still…I guess I'm afraid that…maybe it's already too late. I'm afraid that…from now on, he'll never trust me, or even look at me the same way ever again. He'll only think about—" she hesitated. "About…you know…what I did. And I'm really not like that! I'm not!" Her vocoder momentarily choked up with emotion. "I mean…I don't ever want him to think of me that way. You know, something to be afraid of; a scary mechanical monster, liable to go off on a rampage at any moment or something! Because I'm just not like that!" She sobbed, then continued, her voice now soft and subdued.

"But…I'm afraid that…from now on, whenever he looks at me, he'll only see me and think of me that way. I'm afraid that…he'll only remember me at my worst, without ever remembering me at my best. If that makes sense."

"It does, it does," Dr. Wakeman nodded. "It makes perfect sense. But tell me this: Have you ever told Sheldon that you care about him? At all? Or showed it to him? In any way?"

"No…no…" Jenny shook her head. "At least…not as much as I probably should have, I suppose..." Not 'til today, that is! She thought. "A couple of times I…sorta did, but…I guess I was afraid to show him any more than that."

"Oh? Why afraid?"

"'Cuz…I thought he was liable to…take it the wrong way and…overreact." She shrugged. "He has a tendency to do that sometimes, you know; overreact and go a little overboard."

"Don't we all?" Dr. Wakeman asked with a wry smile.

Jenny immediately caught her creator's meaning, and she grinned widely, accompanied by an embarrassed blush. "Yeah…I guess…" she giggled.

"Still," Dr. Wakeman went on. "It wouldn't hurt to show him that you care about him, once in a while. Or at least appreciate him. After all, nobody likes to feel as though they're taken for granted. You certainly don't, do you?"

"Boy, that's for sure!" Jenny nodded. She certainly knew how that felt, for her heroic efforts to sometimes go unrecognized or unappreciated, and it had always bothered her. "Still…even if I wanted to show him I care, how can I ever get him to trust me again after this?"

"Welll…" Dr. Wakeman drawled, with a wry smile. "You do have a sweeter side to your nature, you know! He probably just hasn't seen it as much as the rest of us have."

Jenny giggled at her creator's words, and she blushed. "Oh, Mom!" she said with an embarrassed smile and a playful, dismissive wave of her hand.

"No, no, I'm quite serious," Dr. Wakeman went on, though she too now grinned widely. "Don't be afraid to show him that you have a sweeter side to your nature. Give it a try once in a while. And you might just be surprised at the results you'll get!"

Jenny's blush deepened and she averted her eyes demurely, failing utterly to conceal her embarrassed smile.

Dr. Wakeman regarded her daughter warmly for another long moment, then turned her attention back to the console, about to begin the diagnostic sequence.

Suddenly, Jenny spoke up, her eyes now wide open in near-shock. "But Mom…!" she exclaimed. "I just thought of something! This…this conscience-program getting blocked and repressed and giving me these nightmares and everything! Suppose something like this happens again sometime? Suppose I…you know, really 'lose it' again someday and…hurt somebody else?" She shuddered, and a slight quaver appeared in her voice. "Is there any way that you can somehow…you know, 'fix me,' so that this never happens again?"

Dr. Wakeman leaned back in her chair, stroking her chin, deep in thought. "Well…" She began, pensively. "Wouldn't a better solution be for you to try and…'fix it' yourself? And for you to see to it that you never do it again?"

Jenny frowned quizzically. "I don't quite get what you mean," said with a brief shake of her head. "I mean, why's that better than you just…you know, 'fixing' me?"

"Well, isn't it better for you to be in control of yourself?"

Jenny blinked. Of course; it seemed so perfectly obvious now. "Oh…yeah… I see your point," she nodded. "But still, couldn't you just…you know, reprogram me or something? Wouldn't that be easier?"

Dr. Wakeman looked at her daughter, her eyebrows arched slightly as she carefully chose her next words. "Well…easier, perhaps, but would that necessarily be better? I mean, think about it. If I did that, I'd be taking away your choice, your ability to decide for yourself, you see? You'd no longer be a person, but merely a mindless, soulless automaton." She paused and shook her head. "You wouldn't really want me to do that to you…would you?"

"No…no, of course not." Jenny replied with a shudder.

"I shouldn't think so," Dr. Wakeman confirmed. "The ability to decide for oneself—one's 'Free Will'—is a vitally important part of what makes us—and you too, of course—human. You don't ever want to have that taken away from you; not by me, not by anyone."

"No, no, certainly not!" Jenny agreed, with a decisive nod.

"That was my whole purpose in creating a conscience-program for you in the first place," Dr. Wakeman went on. "So that you would be in control of your own thoughts, decisions and actions, and be responsible for them at all times. After all," Dr. Wakeman smiled wryly. "Your mother can't be with you and watch over you all the time, and fix everything for you! Nor do I think you'd want me to, would you?"

In spite of the seriousness of the discussion, Jenny giggled. "No, no, definitely not!" she smiled, remembering all the times in the past when she and her creator had clashed over that very issue: over Dr. Wakeman's need to assert authority and offer guidance, versus Jenny's need for independence and her desire to use her own judgment. "I see your point," Jenny went on. "But…oh, it's just so hard sometimes! So…frustrating!"

"Yes, yes, I know it is. It's very frustrating at times. And challenging. And difficult. Nobody ever said it would be easy. But…it's all part of…" She chuckled, and went on. "Well, it's all part of growing up! Just as it's part of being human." Her face then resumed its usual serious demeanor. "And…well, it's also largely because of the heuristic nature of your AI architecture as well. You see, to properly learn to exercise Free Will, you really have no choice but to learn many things in life through firsthand experience; through trial and error."

Jenny regarded her creator quizzically. "Why? I mean, why did you…" She hesitated, then went on. "You know, why did you…program me that way?"

Dr. Wakeman shrugged. "Because there really is no other practical way to do it," She said. "The reasons are rather involved, highly technical and complex, and would take far too long to go into and explain in detail tonight. But in a nutshell—and simplifying greatly—the short answer is that there's simply no other effective way to program you to…well, to be who you are and do what you do. You see, XJ-9, when I was working on your design, I soon realized that you would encounter many situations in your life in which a strictly algorithmic, step-by-step, by-the-book approach to your programming would simply be inadequate. There would be far too many variables involved in any real-world situation, too many unforeseen events that would crop up and change far too rapidly for me to anticipate every possible move and counter-move you could conceivably make, and write the programming code for it all. Although I used some algorithmic structure for some of your basic mission-programming, I knew that for most real-world situations that you'd encounter, an algorithm just wouldn't be sufficient to do the job."

Silently, Jenny slowly nodded, as she absorbed her creator's explanation.

"What I needed therefore, was a essentially a problem-solving shortcut, and to get that, I needed a self-teaching tool that would enable you to think for yourself, and—where appropriate—make logical leaps, by which you would arrive at a solution much faster than would ever be possible with a strictly algorithmic model. In this way, you've learned to use your own judgment, and come up with your own solutions to various unique problems and challenges, and much more quickly than you could if you were simply following an algorithm. And, I have to admit," she said, with a chuckle and a semi-embarrassed smile on her face. "In many cases, you've even managed to come up with ideas and solutions that I never would have thought of!"

"That's true," Jenny nodded, her face brightening as the full meaning of the explanation became clear to her . "Like all those times when I was on my own in a desperate situation, and ended up in a real tight jam that wasn't exactly covered in my training or programming. And I had to think fast and improvise a quick-and-dirty solution to get myself out of it! Right?"

"Precisely!" Dr. Wakeman beamed proudly at her daughter. "That ability to think independently, creatively and quickly—to 'think outside the box,' so to speak—and come up with your own ideas and solutions beyond what's been programmed into you, is largely a result of your heuristic programming. And as useful it is in the performance of your job-duties, it's also useful when it comes to dealing with and interacting with people on an interpersonal level. In many ways, those situations are almost more complex and unpredictable than when you're battling a giant monster, for example, or deflecting an asteroid, or something of that nature."

"Yeah…yeah, that's true…!" Jenny nodded with a smirk, as she recalled the countless challenges she regularly encountered, as she negotiated the treacherous waters of everyday life in high school.

"But…unfortunately," Dr. Wakeman went on, after a brief pause. "Even though this heuristic model has, for the most part, worked out quite well for you, it is, unfortunately, not perfect, by any means. One of the drawbacks of having to learn things through first-hand experience is that it also requires you to learn from your mistakes as well. And there are no easy shortcuts in this learning-process, either. You can only learn by doing, and—yes—making mistakes; a lot of mistakes."

She paused, then continued. "So…yes, it is going to be frustrating for you at times. And of course, it's always going to be more difficult—and frustrating—to learn things for the very first time. And I know that you often feel that I…interfere in your life a bit too much at times. But…all these things will become easier in time, as you get older, become more experienced, more mature and more self-reliant. And the more you learn, the fewer the mistakes you'll make, in time. You'll see."

"I sure hope so," Jenny said, satisfied—at least partially—with her creator's explanation and assurances.

"I know so!" Dr. Wakeman leaned back in her chair, beaming proudly at her robotic daughter. "Because that, you see, is why I made you the way you are," she went on. "That, along with your conscience program, is the whole reason why you exist; why you're a person, more than just a machine. Your self-aware ability to think, to learn from your mistakes, take responsibility for them, correct them, and—hopefully—avoid them in the future, all constantly work towards improving your own performance and abilities over time, allowing you to grow and develop and become a well-rounded, mature individual person."

Jenny now returned her creator's smile, though it was accompanied by a faint trace of a blush, and her eyes glistened with emotion as she took it all in. She remained silent for another moment, then asked, quietly, "Still…how do I know I won't do something like this again sometime in the future?" Though she tried to hide it, there was obvious fear behind her words. "I mean, how can I be sure? I don't…I don't ever want to risk hurting Sheldon again. Or any of my other friends either, for that matter."

Dr. Wakeman leaned back in her chair, deep in thought, and remained silent for a long time before she spoke. "I understand how you feel," she began, softly. "But unfortunately, there's no easy way to answer that. None of us ever knows what we're liable to do in the future when we're in a stressful situation. And we all have a darker side to our nature, with which we all must struggle every day. That, too, is part of being human. And it's also true for you as well. You're no different from anyone else in that regard. It's never easy for anyone to resist giving in to those darker impulses." She paused, and continued. "All I can suggest and advise is that, now that you know what you're capable of, and how serious the consequences can be, perhaps in the future, you'll be more careful about watching out for and recognizing the warning-signs of when your anger is getting out of control. And when you see those warning-signs appear, make an even greater effort to regain control of your emotions before you…you…" She trailed off, then pressed on. "Before you do something that you can't fix or apologize for." She finished.

Jenny shuddered at the thought. "It…it kind of scares me."

"I don't doubt it," Dr. Wakeman replied with a nod. "It is a heavy responsibility for anyone to carry, after all." She paused, then continued, in a more encouraging tone. "But…it's a responsibility that I think you've managed to handle quite well. For the most part, at any rate. And as for it 'scaring' you sometimes, well…I suppose it's somewhat good in a way that you feel that, so long as you don't allow fear to prevent you from doing your job."

Jenny still didn't look quite convinced. Or reassured. So Dr. Wakeman continued. "But…I'd say there is one good thing that we may take away from this entire experience with Sheldon, and it is this: It's proven the conscience program to be, in general, a fairly reliable program; a reliable and accurate indicator of when you're 'getting it right,' as well as when you're…'blowing it,' so to speak. So long as you remember to pay attention to it, that is, and learn to properly recognize and interpret its signals!" She eyed her daughter sharply with narrowed eyes for just a moment, then went on, her features softening. "Listen to what the conscience program is telling you. Don't fight it, or block it, or repress it, the way you did this time, and you shouldn't have too much difficulty."

Jenny smiled. "'Let your conscience be your guide'?" she said.

"Exactly!" Dr. Wakeman replied, returning her daughter's smile. "Because you see, XJ-9, it's my firm belief that you're more than just the 'sum of your parts,' so to speak. There's more to you than just your circuitry and what's been programmed into you. There's a basic goodness within you, that you must hold onto, and never, ever lose sight of. That's what makes you special and unique and important to us; not only to me alone, but to all of your friends, and to the whole rest of the world as well. No other robot in the world is quite like you, XJ-9. Remember that. Even if I were ever to try to make another XJ-9, working from your original blueprints, and following every small detail exactly as I did before, and even if I'd fed the same basic mission-programming, and even some of your memory-records and personality sub-routines into her, she still wouldn't be another you. She might be very close, very similar…but she still wouldn't be you."

Slowly, gradually, Jenny's smile diminished and her eyes moistened, as she contemplated the full implications of her creator's words. For a brief moment, she almost felt as though she was about to cry again. At that precise moment in time, she felt the deepest and most profound emotional bond and connection to her creator, along with a kind of warm, comforting glow deep within her; a safe and contented sort of feeling that she couldn't quite identify or describe…but it felt…soothing, somehow. Comforting. It felt…nice. Nothing else in the world mattered to her at that moment; all she wanted was to savor the experience of that soothing, nurturing feeling.

"And I know it's sometimes difficult for you," Dr. Wakeman went on. "I know you sometimes feel lonely, being the only robot like yourself in a world of humans, as you try to fit in and find a place for yourself. And of course, I know that you have your temperamental side, too. There will be times when you'll find it difficult to control your emotions, and you will have an occasional…bad moment every now and then. As we all do. But believe me, that too will pass, as you get older. It's a phase you will eventually grow out of, in time. And when you do, you'll find it much easier to present that sweeter side of your nature to the world, freely, without embarrassment, for all to see."

Jenny smiled again, but only for a fleeting moment; her smile quickly faded, as a grim recollection occurred to her. "Still…after what I did to poor Sheldon…" she shut her eyes tightly, and shuddered at the recollection. "I still can't believe I did that! I'm going to have to live with the memory of it for the rest of my life! My unnatural life!"

"Now, now, XJ-9, you mustn't speak of yourself so! I've told you before: You're a good robot! And a good daughter, too!"

Jenny was silent for another long moment, deep in thought; then, "Mom? Could you—"

"No, XJ-9!"

"But I haven't even asked you the question yet!"

"I know what you're thinking. You were going to ask me if I could erase the memory of what you did to Sheldon from your memory-banks. Isn't that correct?"

Jenny hung her head and slowly nodded, embarrassed at being so obvious and transparent in her line of thinking. Once again, it seemed as though her creator had read her very thoughts…

"Well, you may as well forget it." Dr. Wakeman said sternly. "I wouldn't erase that memory even if I could. I want you to remember it. I want you to remember everything about this entire experience, every little detail, including your bad dreams, to make absolutely sure that you never do anything like this again!"

"Well then, could I maybe use that time-machine you've got stored in the basement to go back in time and—"

"Absolutely not, XJ-9!" Dr. Wakeman cried, in her most-severe tone. "Don't even think about it!"

"But I—"

"I said, no!"

Jenny looked up at her creator, and opened her mouth, about to argue further; then closed it again, and lowered her head. Her creator had spoken, and that was it. There was no point in arguing, once her mind had been made up.

"Now…I'm sorry to have to be so severe with you," Dr. Wakeman went on, her tone softening. "I know this is painful for you. But as I said: I want you to learn from this experience. I want you to think about what it's taught you, not only what you've learned about Sheldon, but also what you've learned about yourself." She paused, and when she continued, both her tone and her expression softened still further. "Think about the way you react to such situations, and the manner in which you relate to others. And perhaps…give a moment's thought now and then to how another person might think and feel in a given situation. Stop...and think for a minute, instead of just…'blowing your top.'" She finished, with a gentle, reassuring smile. "Okay?"

Jenny smiled weakly and responded with a small nod. "Okay, Mom" she said.

Though it was somewhat painful for her to admit, Jenny knew that her creator's words were reasonable and made perfect sense. There was still so much to think about, and yet, as always, her creator seemed to have a way of explaining it all to her that she found both comforting and satisfying.

A final, half-forgotten question occurred to her then, and tension immediately returned throughout her body. "Um…Mom…?" she asked in a tiny, meek voice. "Are you gonna…ground me…for what I did to Sheldon?"

Dr. Wakeman frowned at her daughter in chilly, excruciatingly long silence. "I should," she replied, at length. "You know…I really should. I ought to ground you from now 'til doomsday for that!" She slowly shook her head disapprovingly, and continued, in quiet, razor-sharp tone. "In fact…to be perfectly honest with you, I was prepared to do a lot more than merely 'ground' you, young lady! A lot more!" She stared coldly at her robotic daughter for eons of time, during which Jenny felt as though all the servo-fluids in her entire body had chilled by twenty degrees, as she pondered just what this 'a lot more' could have possibly entailed.

"But…" Dr. Wakeman went on, after another seeming eternity had passed. "Under the circumstances…" Another long pause. "…and assuming that I can be reasonably assured that this sort of thing will never, ever happen again…"

"It won't, Mom! It won't! I promise!"

Another ice-age-long pause; Dr. Wakeman narrowly scrutinizing her robotic daughter like a culture in a Petri dish.

"Then…in this instance…" she continued. "I think we can safely say that you've already been punished enough by your own conscience, and that you've learned your lesson. So…I think we can just forget about…'grounding' you…this time!" She eyed her robotic daughter narrowly at the last part, and Jenny nodded, having clearly received the message.

"Thanks, Mom," Jenny said in a tiny, meek, yet relaxed voice, every servomotor throughout her body relaxing at once.

After a short silence, she said, very quietly, "Mom…?"

"Yes, what is it now?" Dr. Wakeman drawled, wearily.

"I—I really am sorry, you know."

Dr. Wakeman regarded her robotic daughter with a faint, but warm smile.

"Yes…Yes, I know you are, dear."

She then turned her attention back to the diagnostic console, about to begin the test sequence. Owing to fatigue however, she slightly misjudged the distance to the first series of switches she was reaching for, and her hand lightly brushed against the brim of the Wedgwood china teacup, set on the console surface hours earlier in the afternoon, and now completely forgotten about. The teacup, set ever-so-slightly off-balance by the movement, wobbled briefly for a moment, then toppled off the edge of the console and onto the hard concrete surface of the floor, shattering instantly into a thousand splinters and fragments.

"Damn it!" Dr. Wakeman cursed. Reflexively, Jenny gasped, both at the unexpected shattering of the cup, and at her creator's uncharacteristic reaction; it was, in fact, the only time in her entire life that Jenny had ever heard her creator utter a curse.

Dr. Wakeman bent down and picked up the two largest fragments of what remained of the teacup, and held them in her fingertips, examining them closely. The fragments were each no larger than a dime, but the partial remains of an elegant rose pattern could be clearly seen imprinted upon them. She regarded the shattered pieces in silence for a long moment, before releasing a deep, forlorn sigh.

"That was my favorite teacup, too." She said quietly, with a cryptic little nod. "Damn…!" she repeated her curse softly.

"Can't you just get another one?" Jenny asked.

"No…not like this one. This one was special; one of a kind. It was the last remaining intact piece of a set that once belonged to my grandmother." She paused, then went on, her voice now very soft. "When my sister and I were very young and we used to visit my grandmother on the weekends, this was always my 'special cup,' the one she always set aside just for me." She fell silent, and a barely-perceptible quiver appeared in her lower lip. "I could always tell mine from all the others in the set, by the unique rose-pattern it had…" she said, softly.

"Can't you fix it?" Jenny suggested, trying to be helpful. "You know, glue it back together or something?"

"No…no… Not a chance..." Dr. Wakeman said, sadly shaking her head as she surveyed the profusion of tiny slivers and fragments scattered over the floor. "It's smashed now, smashed beyond repair... And even if I could somehow repair it, it would never be as it once was. Never…" She heaved another deep, heavy sigh. "You see, XJ-9, there are times when it's simply not possible to fix things when they're broken…"

"I'm—I'm sorry, Mom…" Jenny said in a small, quiet voice. Somehow, she felt responsible, but didn't quite know why.

"Hm?" Dr. Wakeman murmured, looking up, almost in surprise, as though stirred from her private thoughts. "Oh, no, no, XJ-9; it's not your fault." She said reassuringly. "It's mine. I should have taken better care of it when I had the chance. Now…it's too late." With a final shake of her head, she reluctantly dropped the dime-sized fragments into the wastebasket. "As with so many things in life, we often don't fully value or appreciate what we have, until we haven't got them anymore…"

Like having a good friendship, for example…! Jenny thought, idly.

"In fact…we could even look upon this as another 'learning experience,'" Dr. Wakeman went on. "The lesson to be learned in this case being to cherish and take proper care of what we have now, while we still can, rather than be thoughtless and careless, only to regret it later on." She paused for a moment, then went on, her voice now quiet but heavy with emotion. "As we see…a moment of carelessness destroyed something that was special; something unique and irreplaceable. Now…it's gone forever…"

An awkward silence followed, as Jenny struggled to think of something—anything—to say in response, that would help alleviate the situation. She lowered her head, trying to dispel the uneasy, unsettling feeling that she was somehow responsible; that it was somehow all her fault, in some strange, arcane way that she couldn't quite comprehend.

"Well…the damage is done," Dr. Wakeman said, resignedly. "There's no point in dwelling on it now. Nothing can be done about it now, in any event. I'll simply…sweep up the pieces in the morning. But for now," her tone shifted abruptly, resuming its usual, coldly clinical tone. "For now, let's focus on getting you taken care of. Back to the diagnostic test."

With that, she set her jaw firmly and turned her attention back to the console. "All right now, you know the routine," she said. "Lie down and remain perfectly still during the test."

As instructed, Jenny lay down on the examination-table and remained absolutely motionless, not moving a servomotor.

Dr. Wakeman switched on the diagnostic equipment, adjusted the knobs and switches on its console, and entered a series of keystrokes, activating the diagnostic-sequence. The equipment hummed and clicked, displays and readouts flashed, blinked and flickered with data, and a printer produced the hard-copy results. After several minutes had elapsed, she entered some more keystrokes, turned and adjusted the switches and knobs once more, and ended the test. When the equipment was silent again, Dr. Wakeman began examining the results from the readouts and printouts.

"Hmmmmm…. All readings now within normal, even optimal, range." She said evenly, though with obvious relief clearly evident in her voice. "No more red indicators anywhere… The log for the conscience program is now clear… All emotional programs and sub-programs are now stable, back to operating at normal levels… All indicators now green, all systems well within normal operating parameters. So…" She took a deep breath, held it…then slowly released it in a deep, relieved sigh. She looked up and beamed at her daughter with a broad, satisfied smile. "Good news!" she proclaimed jubilantly. "Everything is back to normal! The hypothesis holds true! Removal of the conflict within the conscience program restores overall systems balance! Just as I thought it would." And just as I'd hoped it would! She thought.

Jenny blinked, half in relief, half in surprise. After the day she'd had, she was almost afraid to believe the good news when she'd heard it. "So am I…'cured,' then?"

"Yes, you're…'cured!'" Dr. Wakeman nodded, her smile widening.

"Well, that's a relief, thank Jobs!" Jenny exclaimed, her entire body relaxing, as she shared her creator's elation, and returned her smile.

"Yes…yes it certainly is," Dr. Wakeman replied with another relieved sigh. "And, I think you'll sleep much more soundly tonight. There should be no more of those bad dreams! And since tomorrow is a Saturday, you can even sleep in late if you want to!"

"Great! Glad to hear it!" Jenny grinned. "I'm definitely going to do that! I think I need it!"

Dr. Wakeman set aside the report on the console surface, rose to her feet, and walked over to the examination-table. She then began disconnecting the data-cables, pausing only occasionally to wipe her eyes.

Jenny noticed. "Mom…?" She said, quietly. "Is…is something wrong…?"

"What? No, no, dear," Dr. Wakeman smiled reassuringly at her daughter, as she wiped away a tear. "Just tired, that's all. And relieved at the positive test-results, of course."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure!" she nodded as she continued disconnecting cables.

"I—I am sorry about your teacup," Jenny said softly. "I know how special it was to you."

Dr. Wakeman placed a hand comfortingly on Jenny's shoulder and looked into her eyes. "Listen to me, XJ-9." She said, gently. "Listen to me carefully. That wasn't your fault. Do you understand? It was simply an accident. That's all. Nothing more." She paused. "Okay, Sweetie?"

Jenny regarded her creator in silence for another moment, then responded with a tiny nod of acceptance. "Okay," she said.

When the last cable was unplugged and removed, Jenny hopped down off the examination table, turned and headed toward the stairs. Dr. Wakeman returned to the diagnostic-console with the data-cables, and returned them to their storage-drawer. She shut the drawer, and began gathering up the pages of the report and placing them into a folder, pausing occasionally to re-examine a small detail on a page now and then.

Suddenly, Jenny stopped in mid-stride just as she'd reached the foot of the stairs. She then turned and faced her creator.

"Mom?" she said.

"Yes, XJ-9?" Dr. Wakeman replied, looking up from the sheaves of paper in her hands.

Jenny walked over to her creator, and gathered her up in her arms, embracing her in a big warm, gentle hug. "I love you, Mom…!" She murmured, softly.

Dr. Wakeman placed her arms around her robotic daughter and tearfully returned the embrace. "I love you, too…Jenny…"

After Jenny's departure, Sheldon slowly walked back to his house, deep in thought, and now even more confused than ever. Only a few hours earlier, he thought he'd had Jenny completely figured out once and for all. Now, however, the picture was no longer quite so clear…

For so long, he'd wanted so badly to believe that Jenny was a real girl, that she had a heart somewhere that could somehow be reached. Then, in the throes of his heartbreak, he had come to believe that he'd been mistaken, that he was foolish and naïve in those beliefs. Now, in light of the evening's turn of events, he didn't know what to think or believe anymore.

Is Jenny a real girl beneath that steel skin after all? He wondered. A real girl, with genuine feelings, just as I once believed about her? Or is she only a machine after all, and nothing more?

Is she even capable of feelings? He wondered. Feelings like remorse and regret? Like she seemed to show this evening? Sure, she said she was sorry, but what does that really mean? Did the words come from somewhere deep inside her? From some unknowable place beyond human comprehension? Or is she just a machine following its programming?

So just what the heck is Jenny, really? She's not a 'real' girl, of course, not a living, breathing, flesh-and-blood human girl, obviously, but…is she something else? Something…more…? Or something…less…?

As Sheldon reached the front door, opened it and stepped inside, he realized that, in all likelihood, he would never know the answer to that question, nor could anyone ever truly know for sure. Nor was he all that interested in finding out anymore. Now…he simply…didn't care. Much to his surprise…he suddenly realized…that he just didn't care anymore.

Now that he had finally gotten the opportunity to speak his piece to Jenny, to express to her all his thoughts, his passions, his pent-up feelings and frustrations of the past two years…now that it was all over and done with, and had all gone out of him, he felt strangely empty inside; drained, exhausted; he felt numb.

He did feel relieved, of course, as though an enormous, heavy burden had been removed from his shoulders. And yet…oddly enough, in itself, it wasn't as satisfying as he might have expected it to be. He no longer felt sad, or even angry. Nor did he feel happy, either. He simply felt…nothing. Nothing but vague, numb relief.

But…he would at least accept Jenny's apology. He could do that much, at least. He could even say that he "forgave" her, so far as that went. Because in "forgiving" her, at least he would know, in his own heart, that he didn't truly hate her, or hold any lingering ill will toward her, for what would be the sense in that? If he'd received an electric-shock while changing a light-bulb, for example, would he take it personally? Feel hatred for the light-socket and hold a personal grudge against it? Of course not; that would be foolish. After all, a light-socket was no more capable of distinguishing between right and wrong than Jenny was. Or fully grasping subtle abstract concepts such as kindness or cruelty. They were all the same to a light-socket, just as they were to Jenny…

And 'forgiveness,' he knew, was also part of the process of letting go, which he'd begun the week before, when he'd taken down and destroyed the little "Jenny Shrine," with all its related memorabilia, and had deleted the design-files for all the gifts he'd planned to give to her. Once he'd done that, he knew even then that the die was cast, and there could be no going back. Ever.

And accepting—and even welcoming—Jenny's apology was a relief to him for another reason, too: He would no longer have to waste time and energy in avoiding and running away from her at school. Nor did he feel the desperate need to change schools to get away from her, either. At least…not right away. No, transferring to Poly Tech could wait—for the time being, at least; until the Fall of the following year, perhaps. He would still transfer to Poly Tech, of course, and then go on to Galt Tech or Roarke U. after that. He would still stick to his plan; that hadn't changed. And in the meantime, he would stay put at Tremorton High and finish out the school year, simply as a matter of convenience, if nothing else; to minimize any further disruption in his life. It was only for a couple of more months anyway; he could live with that. But either way, he was at last ready to let go of the past, and move on with his life, with no regrets and no backward glances.

Because he saw things differently now; he saw them more clearly. In light of all that he had thought about over the past two weeks, and all that he'd experienced during that day alone, he no longer held any illusions. Those were now gone. He now accepted that Jenny had no feelings for him, never would…and probably never even could. And so, he would never again make the mistake of inferring more from her simple apology, her hugs or even her kiss, than was intended; not even in the unlikely event that they really truly were sincere, and had come from some unknowable human-like emotion deep within her.

Even her quick kiss on the cheek meant nothing to him now. At one time, a kiss from Jenny would have meant the whole world to him, but not any longer. Now he knew better. He now knew that there was nothing behind the kiss; no real, genuine feelings or emotions. It was only a meaningless, superficial token, signifying nothing. Like her tears and her pleas for forgiveness, it was simply another example of her sophisticated programming at work; clever mimicry of human behavior, designed for effect, to elicit a specific emotional response from him, and nothing more. And, most likely, it would probably be forgotten about within a couple of days' time, too.

Similarly, her promise to "make it up" to him—whatever that meant—and even her "apology" itself, shouldn't be taken too seriously, as they were merely words that had been programmed into her; words that would also probably be forgotten about within a couple of days' time. So he didn't really expect to see any change in her attitude or behavior toward him in the future. He didn't expect her to treat him any differently, or any better than she ever had in the past, despite her empty, synthetic promises to do so. He knew better than to expect that now. And it didn't matter, anyway. He no longer needed her…or even wanted her anymore.

In fact, in that sense, her "apology"—or his acceptance of it—didn't really matter, either. It changed nothing, in terms of how he now felt about her. His infatuation with her, his hopeless, one-sided, unrequited love for her, was still officially over. He was over her. As soul-wrenchingly difficult as the process had been, he had at last managed to come through it, had resolved it within his own mind…and he was over her.

So it really didn't matter whether her apology was truly sincere, stemming from a genuinely human or human-like feeling of remorse, or whether she was merely a machine following its programming. Maybe she really was genuinely 'sorry' in something resembling the human sense of the word. Maybe not. It didn't matter. It didn't matter, because he no longer cared. It didn't change how he felt inside.

Because he had changed. Deep down inside, Sheldon knew that he'd changed. He wasn't quite sure what had done it. It wasn't only the incident at the secret agent compound. No, that was merely the last straw. This was something that had been coming for a long time now, he realized; building up inside him on a level he was not even consciously aware of, until now. Maybe it was the accumulation of several bad experiences with Jenny that had done it. Or maybe it was just the simple passage of time. After all, he was no longer the timid, immature, naïve fifteen-year-old freshman that he was when he'd first met Jenny. He was seventeen now. He'd be graduating in another year, and going to college soon after that. A person can change a lot in two years, and he certainly had, he knew.

But whatever the cause, he knew that something had gone out of him that would never return, like a fire that had gone out and could never be re-kindled, leaving nothing behind but cold, dry ashes. Some indefinable something that he had once felt for Jenny, so intensely, so passionately, was now gone for all time. He no longer loved her; he knew he didn't hate her; he simply…didn't care anymore. At one time he did. He really, truly loved Jenny from the most sincere bottom of his heart, and would have willingly sacrificed his life for her, a thousand times over. But no more. He simply had nothing left to give; no love for her remained in his heart. Had she apologized a long time ago, for even some of the things she'd done, had she ever met him even half-way, he might feel differently now. But now…at this late date…her apology just didn't matter. It came much too late to make much of a difference anymore.

He knew he would never again have the same feelings for Jenny that he once had. He no longer believed in her, and he no longer trusted her. Whatever faith and trust he'd once had in her had been destroyed with the first blasts of her laser-cannons, and the "Jenny" that he thought he knew and loved was lost to him, forever. Her actions on that terrible day had killed all the love he had in his heart for her. A line had been crossed, and he could never go back to what had come before.

But…he was willing to go through the motions of being "friends" with her, at least—whatever that meant. It was probably better for them to part and go their separate ways as friends than as enemies anyway, he thought. After all, the last thing he needed was a flying, superpowered robot for an enemy; especially after having experienced what she was capable of when angered…

And at this point anyway, he could be reasonably assured that she didn't hold any lingering hostility towards him, and wasn't liable to do him any more bodily harm in the future. At least…he hoped she wouldn't…

And yet…in the back of his mind…he knew he could never again be entirely sure…

So even though he would no longer have to actively avoid her, nor would he go out of his way to actively seek her company, either. If he happened to encounter her by chance, in the school hallways or at Mezmer's or anywhere else, and if she spoke to him first, he would respond in kind. He'd be polite to her, he'd be pleasant, he'd be civil…but no more than that. And other than the occasional chance encounter, he would try to have as little to do with her as possible.

And he would no longer be so ready and willing to do any favors for her, either, such as the little repair-jobs she'd sometimes asked for. No, the days of doing her any favors of any kind were definitely over as well. If she ever asked him to do one, well…he would simply have to find some excuse to get out of it, that was all. A part of him was sorry to have to do that, but…it would have to be done. He could no longer allow himself to be used and taken for granted by her, and that meant having to say "No" to her, however painful that might be.

To the casual observer, he imagined that things might appear to be pretty much the same as always between them. But on a deeper and more personal level, he knew that this would not be the case. Things could never be quite the same between them ever again. For he knew, deep down in his heart of hearts, that the friendship between them—if one ever really existed in the first place—was essentially over now, for he knew that he'd never, ever be able to truly forgive Jenny for what she'd done, just as he knew that he'd never again be able to love her.

And so, he would never again make a fool of himself over her, chasing after her like a puppy dog as he once had, endlessly humiliating himself by pursuing what he now saw was a hopeless dream, an impossible fantasy that could never become reality. The dream was over, and he was awake now. No longer could he delude himself into believing that there could ever be anything more than a make-believe, pretend "friendship" between himself and the robot-girl, any more than he could go on believing that the robot-girl itself could ever be anything more than a pretend, artificial person. It was merely a machine following its programming, nothing more. A highly sophisticated, technically advanced machine, to be sure…but still only a machine, just the same—and a defective and dangerous one at that. And as such, Sheldon now knew that anything more than the most casual, superficial form of "friendship" between them was impossible. Such a thing could never be, and was hopeless and doomed from the start. He was a fool to expect—or even hope for—anything more than that. He saw that now, he'd accepted it as fact, and had, at long last, reconciled himself to it.

After all, he thought with a resigned shrug, How could a machine ever possibly love anyone?

END

"It is difficult for love to last long; therefore, he who loves passionately, is cured of love, in the end."

—Ancient Chinese Proverb

"If you were to insist I was a robot, you might not consider me capable of love in some mystic human sense, but you would not be able to distinguish my reactions from that which you would call love—so what difference would it make?"

—Isaac Asimov

Author's postscript: Well, there you have it, dear readers, my first work of fiction in over 15 years, as well as the longest, most complex, most challenging and most difficult piece that I've ever written, and my first-ever fanfiction of any kind. I hope you've enjoyed it, found it interesting, and—possibly—thought-provoking as well. As always, any final comments are welcome.

Originally, this story was intended to be my one & only foray into MLAATR fanfic-writing, a 'one-off' that would end here (and even then, it originally began life as only a 5-6k-word short-story, not the 100k-word novel it eventually grew into!) But given the response and feedback it has generated here (and—believe me—nobody is more surprised by that than I am!) I'm now thinking of following it up with more MLAATR fanfics in the future, picking up more or less where this one left off.

So if you have any additional thoughts or any questions as to where I may possibly go in future MLAATR fanfics (which—if I do write any—may be awhile yet—this one took a lot out of me, for some strange reason!) you may also feel free to PM me.

-Shvique

p.s. The Author makes a brief cameo-appearance as a minor character in this story. Have you figured out which chapter it is in which he makes his appearance?